Cum a inceput un haiku sa ia fiinta intr-o librarie pariziana

(http://blogs.suntimes.com/ebert/poetry/so-much-depends-upon-a-red-whe-1.html)

(click here for the English version)

Totul a inceput intr-o librarie mititica din Paris, pe undeva prin Marais. Era o librarie de limba engleza, unde puteai gasi editii de mult epuizate, pe care probabil ca nu le-ai mai fi gasit nicaieri in alta parte.

Poate exagerez putin. Mai sunt cateva locuri la fel, si ca sa vorbesc numai de librarii asemanatoare pe care le-am vizitat cat am fost in America, as aminti despre Capitol Hill Books  in Washington, pe langa Eastern Market, apoi in Baltimore, Clayton Fine Books pe Charles Street, apoi in Cambridge, langa Harvard Square, sau in Greenwich Village pe undeva pe langa Houston Street. Sau in Brooklyn, pe Bedford Avenue. Sau Georgetown Bookshop in Bethesda (numai ca aceasta a disparut intre timp).

Hai ca m-am intins la vorba. Oricum, libraria din Cambridge are numai carti in franceza, pe cand in cea pariziana din Marais gasesti numai proza si poezie in engleza. Asta-i treaba.

Libraria aceea din Paris are un nume curios (si bine inteles englezesc), The Red Wheelbarrow (adica Roaba Rosie).

O camera ingusta, ocupata de rafturi pline de carti, parand a fi intr-o dezordine frenetica. Ma gandeam la numele librariei, de unde venea, imi era rusine sa intreb, asa ca mi-am lasat imaginatia sa se joace. Sa fi fost oare Roaba asta Rosie titlul vreunui haiku? Un poem minuscul, al carui sir de cuvinte aparent fara sens sa te biciuiasca precum un kōan, incarcat cu intelesuri imposibil sa le descifrezi?

(http://blogs.suntimes.com/ebert/poetry/so-much-depends-upon-a-red-whe-1.html)

Mica librarie englezeasca din Paris era de fapt prima mea intalnire cu William Carlos Williams, dar aveam sa imi dau seama de asta mai tarziu, dupa cativa ani, atunci cand aveam sa ii descopar versurile, iar  Roaba Rosie avea sa capete brusc inteles. Era un haiku? Da si nu, as spune, termenul defineste o forma poetica foarte precisa, dand totusi voie, macar din cand in cand, si unor mici libertati.

A fost o a doua intalnire in care asocierea Roabei Rosii cu un haiku a inceput sa capete o forma concreta. De data asta nu la Paris, ci pe sol britanic, in West Midlands (de fapt pe Internet): un colectiv de tineri creatori de film, Black Country Cinema. Unul dintre ei, o veche cunostinta de pe web, Mattie (Mathew Carter) regizase un haiku video: o perla minimalista, filtrand superb intelegerea sa profunda a artei lui Kiarostami.

HAIKU VIDEO - Duminica Dupa Amiaza


(video by jovossuck123)

Iar intr-un comentariu facut acestui video, cineva semnand videogoatbird a citat The Red Wheelbarrow, poezia scrisa de William Carlos Williams! Legatura dinte Roaba Rosie si haiku era deci stabilita!

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.

(http://blogs.suntimes.com/ebert/poetry/so-much-depends-upon-a-red-whe-1.html)

Williams a explicat odata geneza acestui poem: a izvorat din afectiunea pentru un negru batran, Marshall dupa nume; pescar prin zona  Gloucesterului; el povestea despre munca lui care il tinea  in apa rece ca gheata. Williams l-a simpatizat mult de tot pe batran, si cam la fel de mult pe fiul acestuia, Milton. In curtea lor se afla o roaba rosie inconjurata de pui de gaina. Iar toate astea s-au transformat incet in poezie.


dépend tellement au moment

une brouette rouge de roue

glacé avec de l'eau pluie

près des poulets blancs.

(http://poetry.bryantmcgill.com/~W/William_Carlos_Williams/William_Carlos_Williams_The_Red_Wheelbarrow_French.html)

so viel hängt ab

von einer roten Schubkarre

glänzend von Regenwasser

bei den weißen Hühnern

(http://www.welt.de/print-welt/article504259/Die_rote_Schubkarre.html)

tantas cosas
dependen de

una carretilla
roja

lustrosa por el agua
de la lluvia

entre gallinas
blancas.

(http://zaidenwerg.blogspot.com/2010/11/la-carretilla-roja-william-carlos.html)

Hai sa o incercam si in romaneste (numai sa nu trageti in pianist):

Atat de multe depind
de o roaba rosie

Lustruita
de apa ploii

Alaturi cativa
pui albi

Matthew E Carter: Life, ay it a game!

(http://vimeo.com/13869261)

The first name that comes to mind is Ozu (as all great film directors came out from the Late Spring), I thought also at Maya Deren's Meditation on Violence, as the timing of this short made by Matthew E Carter is perfect. Well, Mattie builds on Ozu and on Maya Deren, but, I must say, he is here totally original. It's the science of Ozu in the details, the science of Deren in the timing, and it's original. Great art builds on masters while being truly forceful and original.

(video by Mattie)

(Vlog of Mattie)

(Black Country Cinema)

The Way a Haiku Began In a Parisian Bookstore

(http://blogs.suntimes.com/ebert/poetry/so-much-depends-upon-a-red-whe-1.html)

(click here for the Romanian version)

It all began in a small Parisian bookstore, in the Marais. An English language bookstore with some out of print titles you can probably find only there and nowhere else.

Well, maybe I'm exaggerating a little. There are a few other spots like this one, and to say here only about such places that I visited in the US, in DC, the Capitol Hill Books near the Eastern Market, and in Baltimore, the Clayton Fine Books on Charles Street, in Cambridge near Harvard Square, or in Greenwich Village some place near Houston Street. Or in Brooklyn, on Bedford Avenue. Or the Georgetown Bookshop in Bethesda, but this one is no more.

Wait a little, the bookstore in Cambridge I'm talking about had only French language books, while the Parisian one in the Marais was featuring English language novels and poems. So it goes.

The Parisian bookstore had a curious name, The Red Wheelbarrow. It was my first encounter with it, and I was shy to ask the people there about the origin.

The space was very tiny, and the shelves were jammed with books, seemingly in a total disorder. And my imagination began to play. Was this Red Wheelbarrow the title of a haiku? A tiny poem, whose apparently nonsensical string of words was wiping you like a kōan, jammed with hidden senses impossible to decipher?

(http://blogs.suntimes.com/ebert/poetry/so-much-depends-upon-a-red-whe-1.html)

That small English language bookstore in Paris was actually my first encounter with William Carlos Williams, and I realized it when, after some years, I discovered his poems and so the meaning of the Red Wheelbarrow suddenly made sense for me. Was it a haiku? I would say, yes and no, the term designates a very precise poetic form, while also allowing now and then some fuzziness.

It was due to another encounter that the association between Red Wheelbarrow and haiku started to take a concrete shape. Not in Paris this time. This chance meeting was now on British soil, in the West Midlands (on the net, actually): a collective of young filmmakers, the Black Country Cinema. One of them, an older web acquaintance, Mattie (Mathew Carter) created a haiku video: a minimalistic gem, superbly filtering his deep understanding of the art of Kiarostami.

HAIKU VIDEO - Sunday Afternoon


(video by jovossuck123)

And in a comment to this artwork, another interesting video artist (whose pen name is videogoatbird), came with the poem of William Carlos Williams! The link between the Red Wheelbarrow and haiku was now made!

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.

(http://blogs.suntimes.com/ebert/poetry/so-much-depends-upon-a-red-whe-1.html)

Williams came once with an explanation: this poem sprang from affection for an old Negro named Marshall; he had been a fisherman, caught porgies off Gloucester; he used to tell how he had to work in the hold in freezing weather, standing ankle deep in cracked ice packing down the fish. Williams liked that man, and his son Milton almost as much. In his back yard there was a red wheelbarrow surrounded by the white chickens.

And the affection for the old man somehow got into the writing.



dépend tellement au moment

une brouette rouge de roue

glacé avec de l'eau pluie

près des poulets blancs.

(http://poetry.bryantmcgill.com/~W/William_Carlos_Williams/William_Carlos_Williams_The_Red_Wheelbarrow_French.html)

so viel hängt ab

von einer roten Schubkarre

glänzend von Regenwasser

bei den weißen Hühnern

(http://www.welt.de/print-welt/article504259/Die_rote_Schubkarre.html)

tantas cosas
dependen de

una carretilla
roja

lustrosa por el agua
de la lluvia

entre gallinas
blancas.

(http://zaidenwerg.blogspot.com/2010/11/la-carretilla-roja-william-carlos.html)

Let's try in Romanian (and don't shot the pianist):

Atat de multe depind
de o roaba rosie

Lustruita
de apa ploii

Alaturi cativa
pui albi


(William Carlos Williams)

(Vlog of Mattie)

(Black Country Cinema)

Black Country Cinema

(http://www.blackcountrycinema.com/)

Black Country Cinema is a collective of four young British filmmakers from the West Midlands. Drawing from influences such as Ozu, Kiarostami, Miyazaki, Hitchcock and Jennings, they are blurring the lines between documentary and fiction. What they look for in their films is honesty, authenticity and minimalism (I'm quoting from their artistic statement).

I knew so far some works by one of the Black Country Cinema members, Matthew E Carter (Mattie). His videos are amazing. To say that he is one of the best video authors would mean to say too little. He has genius.

Let me show here a short movie made collectively by Black Country Cinema. The film is named Walk 17: a young part-time postman is talking about a place he likes to visit whilst delivering on his route.

(video by Birmingham Salute)

Walk 17 has been awarded 2nd place for the Best My Street Film at the 2011 Open City London Documentary Festival.

• The Way a Haiku Began In a Parisian Bookstore
• Matthew E. Carter: Life, ay it a game!
  

(Filmofilia)

(Vlog of Mattie)